Page 48 of Cold Foot Cash

“I fell in love with all his pictures—”

“Carolina—”

“No, Harley. He’s off-limits.”

“But—”

“No. I said no. That’s the rule. Cash is off-limits.”

Harley glanced up at her reflection in the mirror that hung on the wall. Her face was full of bafflement. “But you dated the guy I liked for years, and almost married him, remember? I never set a rule on you. I wanted you to be happy. Cash isn’t even your ex. You’ve never talked to him other than the time in the car when we figured out it wasn’t him.”

“I fell in love with who I thought Cash was. I’m not dealing with you dating him.”

“I’m not dating him though. Not now. I’m getting through Tuesday. I haven’t kissed anyone, I haven’t held hands with anyone, I haven’t slept with anyone.”

“You’re justifying your behavior, Harley. You’re hanging out with a man behind Lance’s back.”

“Oh, we’re back to accusing me of cheating? That’s the move? It’s not behind Lance’s back, Carolina. It’s just none of his damn business. He forfeited the right to know anything about my life when he embarrassed me, and moved on, and kickedme out of my own damn home so he could play house with his mistress.”

“And what’s the difference in what you are doing now? Huh?” Carolina yelled. “Slut-behavior is beneath you, and you know it.”

Oh, that did it. That got to her. Rage filled Harley until she thought she would go insane with it. “Oh, I’m a slut now?” she demanded, standing. “I’ve slept with no one other than Lance since the day I met him. No one called him names when he stepped out on me, or when he moved in with Alissa, or when he destroyed me systematically over the last year. No one even batted an eye when he asked for all of my money in the divorce. No one said anything against him when he stalled three times on signing the divorce paperwork while he was fucking Alissa. Where was your judgement when he dragged out this divorce just as a means of controlling my ability to move on? Huh? Where was the name-calling for him?”

“Do you like Cash?”

She clenched her hand at her side, and closed her eyes, then sighed, and counted to seven for patience. “Appreciating a kind man for who he is and how he makes me feel about myself, when my ex has completely moved on with another woman does not make me a slut, Carolina. Take it back.”

“So yes. You do like Cash.”

She thought about it—really thought about her feelings over him. A few seconds drifted by, and then she murmured, “I do. He’s nice to me. It’s been a while since a man was nice to me. His friends are kind to me, and they don’t know about the shitshow in Bozeman. They don’t care about me not being enough for Lance. I feel like I’m enough here.”

“You allowed your heart to feel that for another man before Tuesday. I’m not taking it back,” Caroline said. “If you care about me at all, you will come home and stop talking to Cash.”

The line went dead, and in horror, Harley stared at the phone screen as it faded to black.

What about nine months ago, when they were supposed to be officially divorced, but Lance refused to follow through with their court date last-second? Or six months ago when he refused to sign the divorce paperwork again? While Harley was seeing him and his mistress everywhere around town, hanging out at their old bars, hanging with their friend group? She’d been pushed to the edge of their friend-group, alienated, and shoved aside. What about the times this divorce was supposed to be done already? She should’ve been allowed to move on months ago, but because Lance was controlling the timing, he was allowed to care for someone else, and she was not? The unfairness of it all finally settled into her heart, and he made her angry, and so sad.

Lance had won. He’d gotten what he wanted. He was allowed to do whatever he wanted, and fuck whoever he wanted, no consequences, no guilt, no shame. But for Harley, anything she did was wrong. Her happiness was somehow unacceptable.

If you care for me at all…

Harley’s eyes burned with emotion. But what about her? Everyone else was free to move on, and they were allowed to be happy. There wasn’t a person on earth that Harley would put a restriction on Carolina dating, so long as she was happy.

Harley had told her sister she felt like enough here, and after everything, after Carolina watched her break over the past year, she was calling her that name—slut?

Harley’s stomach felt like it was full of cement.

If you care about me at all, you will come home and stop talking to Cash.

It wasn’t fair.

None of this was fair.

The unfairness of it all hadn’t bothered her overly, until it was her turn to start moving on, and everyone lost their shit and went into manipulation-mode to get her back in line. There should be no roadblocks to her happiness now that she was ready to recover and get her life back, and those obstacles shouldn’t come from people who supposedly cared about her.

If you care about me at all…

She did care. She cared so much. Too much, perhaps. Why was she the one to always sacrifice her comfort for the comfort of others?

---